when does it get easier? i'm sure there's a break at some point. tide can't always be high, crashing down and crushing - sufficating and sweeping away all that's left only to rush back in and do it all over again.
she was there. she was there with him. i wish i wasn't so good at predicting these things. she's perfectly sweet and vapid, not quite banal but definitely not me and much more what you want. i'm sure it's only a matter of time.
just to be friends. how much do i have to push back? can a line be drawn in the sand? must i erect a fortress? an outstretched hand, is that enough? or must i shove with all my might? what does it take to just be friends...
when does this cold skeletal hand no longer slip around my lower back, that place reserved for only those i want to know more? when does this cold skeletal hand stop sliding up my side from lower back along the curves of hip to nipped in waist and up and out again? when does this cold skeletal hand no longer snake in between my ribs and slowly fill my chest cavity, cold and griping - tightening until i gasp for air, partly because i didn't realize i was holding my breath and partly becauase the pain should be cold enough to numb but some how it isn't.
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